


No Questions Asked

by donutwolf



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Body Worship, Hurt/Comfort, Kink Exploration, M/M, Sexual Content, Space food, Stomach Ache, Stuffing, temporary immobility
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-06 12:32:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8751514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donutwolf/pseuds/donutwolf
Summary: It takes a while for Shiro to notice how much Hunk really eats. When he finally does, there's no going back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for voltron_kink, original prompt from [here:](http://voltron-kink.dreamwidth.org/1161.html?thread=448393)
> 
>   _Shiro coming to terms with his feeder kink and Hunk absolutely loves being pushed to eat and eat until he is painfully full- and hard. Shiro takes care of him_
> 
> This part is feelings, next part will be the porn.

It didn’t immediately register with Shiro how much Hunk ate. In fact, it took him weeks to notice how Hunk always beat him by several plates, beat  _ everyone _ , shoving endless bites of food into his big mouth whenever he was given the opportunity. Maybe it was weird--they were usually seated next to each other at dinner, and yeah, Hunk talked about food near constantly--but somehow Shiro hadn’t really paid attention to the fact that Hunk could easily out-eat the rest of the team, and by a huge margin. 

On some level, he must have known this would become an issue. Hunk was a big guy, and big guys usually  _ ate  _ big _ ,  _ too. He could blame it on battle weariness or PTSD, or any number of the crazy thing that had been happening in his life lately, but when the realization finally hit him, there was no going back.

  
  
  
  
  


The others were already finishing up their meals when Shiro walked into the dining room. He was running late, having pushed himself through an especially rigorous workout to clear his mind; the nightmares seemed to come less often nowadays, but when they did, he always woke up feeling hollow, and so damn  _ weak. _

Now, his stomach was growling, pleading him to feed it, and Shiro quickly muttered good mornings to the team while he scanned table.  _ What I wouldn’t give for some proper rice and miso _ , he thought with a pang of homesickness, grabbing the nearest bowl on the table and dragging it by his plate.

He peered inside, ready to dig in, but the bowl was almost empty. Confused, he looked up to find another one.

Just then Hunk leaned back in his chair next to him, letting out a huge burp. “Uahh, that was the _best_ breakfast goo we’ve had in awhile! My compliments to the chef, Coran.”

“Why, thank you, I will tell the nutrition unit your--”

Keith’s voice cut off Coran’s beaming before he could really get into it, his words pointed at Hunk. “You do know this shit comes from machine, right? And it’s the same fucking green goop every day, every meal. I can’t believe you can stomach this, let alone  _ praise  _ it.”

“Hey, now, I’ve got a pretty good palate and I would definitely say it’s  _ not  _ the same thing every day. It has  _ layers,  _ Keith, layers of taste.”

“I would trust on Hunk on this one,” Lance chimed in, “the dude knows his food.”

Keith snorted. “Yeah, he sure does. Did you leave  _ anything  _ for our poor leader here? He looks hungry.”

They all turned to look at him in unison, and Shiro froze, the empty bowl of food goo still in his hands. He cleared his throat. “Can someone pass me another bowl? This one’s empty.”

There was another pause, during which all their eyes turned to Hunk, who was red in his face, looking sheepish with a bit of green still stuck on the corner of his mouth.

“Oh! I’m, I’m sorry, Shiro, it’s--they’re all empty.” Hunk chuckled nervously, his eyes flicking back and away from Shiro’s gaze. “I thought you’d eaten early like usual, would’ve saved you some if I’d known...”

“Do not worry, Shiro, I will get you more in a--”

Again, Coran’s were words cut off as Lance said, “C’mon, don’t look so surprised. He does this almost  _ every morning _ \--you’re just not here to witness all the gory details.”

Maybe it was the nightmare he’d just had, or the faintness in his head from working out on an empty stomach;  maybe he was just caught off guard, but suddenly, the whole scene presented itself to Shiro in a new light, crisp and clear.

Five of the massive bowls that the food in the castle was served from were stacked in front of Hunk, the sixth one still in Shiro’s hand.  _ All _ of them empty. He could barely eat half a bowl himself, a whole one if pressed, but Hunk--

_ Hunk _ had finished them, what must have been at least  _ half  _ of it all after the others had eaten their share. Shiro tried not to, but he just couldn’t help it, his eyes darting to Hunk’s form next to him.

He swallowed, feeling a flush suddenly overcome him; Hunk had sat up again to talk to him and his round gut just  _ filled  _ his lap, looking tight and full when he leaned over. His soft pecks rested against the crest of his belly and-- _ oh my god,  _ Shiro needed to leave before he embarrassed himself.

He stood up, taking the bowl with him as he backed away from the table. “I’m just gonna--get some more,” he said to answer their stares, then turned around and walked away from the room, not answering the calls of his confused teammates.

  
  
  
  


 

Since then, Shiro couldn’t tune it out anymore. As he watched Hunk finish off a heaping pile of alien vegetables that night at dinner, then go for second and thirds, he wondered how he could have been so blind to something he now could hardly tear his eyes off. 

It took a few days for the rest of the team to stop bringing up the incident and find something else to jibe about, and Shiro tried his best for things to go back to normal. He  _ tried _ , at least, but it was like that one moment had been a revelation to him, and denying it was harder than he’d expected.

He kept finding his gaze on the curve of Hunk’s stomach when he wore his pilot suit, wondering just how stretchy these suits ultimately were. All that eating must be adding up to  _ something _ , he thought, sneaking glances to measure the dark patches of spandex-like material stretched over Hunk’s waistline, trying to gauge a difference there.

The problem wasn’t that this was something new to him. Shiro had always felt drawn to big eaters, and he could certainly appreciate how many servings Hunk could finish before he leaned back in his chair, a hand on his gut and a satisfied grin on his lips. He wanted to reach over and rest his hand on top of that swollen belly, and rub away the ache from it, and he could deal with all that except--

Hunk was a  _ teammate.  _ Shiro could well fuck up the whole Voltron deal if he proposed something this weird on a fellow paladin and things went badly. He was their  _ leader _ \--he must set the example.

He  _ could  _ control himself.

But even if the others had forgotten about Shiro’s moment of weirdness that day, Hunk clearly hadn’t--and whenever Shiro lost himself, giving into temptation for a moment too long, he could soon feel Hunk’s eyes on him, a curious look on his face.

They had barely had any time to talk; their daily paths didn’t cross that much outside of practise and missions, offering little opportunity to resolve the tension that had suddenly sprung between them.

Shiro had thought about it, though. Thought about how things would play out if he were to just--give in, and  _ none _ of the scenarios in his head exactly helped to ease his tension, no matter how they turned out; he could only have so many cold showers a day, and he was pretty sure his restlessness was getting noticeable.

So he found himself spending more hours at the gym than was strictly needed, sparring, training, doing  _ something  _ to try and kick off the senseless urge that took him over whenever he shared a table with Hunk. He pushed himself past exhaustion, past the point where his muscles screamed for energy and oxygen and rest, hoping that would be enough to quell his libido...

More than often it wasn’t, but at least his moves were in top shape.

  
  
  
  
  


It was already late when Shiro headed back towards his room on his jog around the castle; the luminescent columns that lighted up the corridor had been dimmed down for the night, barely brightening as he passed them, many of the side corridors almost like a black void. Not that he paid much attention to them, lulled into the rhythmic padding of his feet, the fluid movement of his body. 

He nearly missed the sound, moving past the door to the common area without slowing, but some subconscious part of him made him frown, and slow down; he tracked back, stepping in the doorway to look inside.

The next burp was followed by a groan, and a softly muttered curse. “Great going, Hunk, really nice, gonna be the greatest paladin ever,” the muttering continued, until it was interrupted by a sudden hiccup.

Shiro felt nailed to his place, even if his instinct was to just  _ go-- _ Hunk hadn’t spotted him yet, but Shiro could see  _ him,  _ slouching down on the couch seat with empty dishes all around him, his gut rising like a mountain under his shirt. He was rubbing his belly in circles, but he was frowning, still muttering under his breath.

“--should have stopped at the blue goo, but  _ no,  _ just needed  _ one more bowl  _ of the red goo, and now we’re stuck here. Great, just great.”

A shiver fell down Shiro’s spine; Hunk was _stuck,_ pinned to the seat by god knows how many bowls of food in his belly; it looked so round, so _full_ as it pushed the limits of his usually loose shirt, making the seams pull.

He should leave, he  _ really  _ should--but instead, Shiro took a step inside, as if pulled in; he didn’t know what else to say so he cleared his throat and called, “Hunk?” and walked closer.

Hunk jumped, falling silent for a moment, before busting out a nervous chuckle. “ _ Shiro _ , jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”

“What are you doing here in the dark?”

Hunk chuckled again, and even in the bad lighting Shiro could see the embarrassment written on his face; he had closed the distance between them now, coming to a stop in front of Hunk, just a few steps away.

Hunk shrugged, nonchalant, but Shiro saw him tugging at his shirt self consciously. “Well, you see, just chillin’ and all that.”

“Just chillin’ in a dark room?” Shiro repeated, his brows lifting.

“It’s very relaxing, yes, that’s what I do, so--”

Hunk would have rambled on, but Shiro cut him off with the offer of his hand; the movement surprised even him, but--he was just being a good teammate, right? “So you don’t need any help, then?” he said, giving Hunk a level look, allowing himself only barest glimpse of his massively swollen belly; he swallowed, then cleared his throat. “C’mon, I’ll help you back to your quarters.”

The confused look on Hunk’s face dissolved but his cheeks flushed darker, and he glanced down, scratching his neck. “Aw, no, you don’t need to do that. It’ll be fine in uh, a while...”

Shiro’s hand wavered, but only for a second. “Come on,” he said in a softer voice, “let me help you.” Hunk still wasn’t meeting his eye, so he let his eyes wander, counting the empty bowls scattered on the couch with a quickening heartbeat; his throat needed clearing again before he got out, “No questions asked,” but it still came out sounding rougher than he intended.

Hunk looked up at that, and Shiro could see him measuring him with his gaze; he was hoping he didn’t look different than usual, but the smile on his face felt forced even as he told himself to relax.

Finally, Hunk seemed to reach a conclusion, and he lifted his arms up with a heavy sigh.

“Just, give me a hand so I can get up and, and I can manage the rest,” he said, resigned, and Shiro felt a rush of anticipation and dread go through him as he moved forward to clasp hands with Hunk.

Ignoring the flush of warmth that travelled up his arm, Shiro secured his grasp before asking, “You ready?”

Hunk nodded, brows furrowed in concentration; he took a breath and heaved himself up, letting Shiro pull him to his feet.

“W-well, that went--” He faltered, his face twisting in pain as he doubled over, hand pressed against the side of his swollen gut. “Holy-- _ jesus _ that hurts,” he grunted out, looking like he might slide back down on the couch, but Shiro caught him; he slid his hand under Hunk’s arm, giving him his shoulder for support.

It brought Shiro’s mind to battlefields, their bodies pressed close out of necessity, and he found himself asking, “You okay?” before he could stop; he reached out his hand and ran it over Hunk’s middle before realizing what he was doing and jerking it back.

Hunk glanced at him, trying to smile through a wince. “Yeah, yeah, just give me a moment.” He was kneading a spot on the side of his gut, and a low burp bubbled up, followed by a sigh. “Sorry,” Hunk mumbled, hiding the next ones behind his fist.

Shiro felt suddenly hot; he could feel the warmth of Hunk’s body next to him, the solid weight of it against him, and it filled with a craving for  _ more _ .

“Okay, I think we’re good to go now.”

Hunk startled him with his words, and Shiro took a moment to follow through with what he meant. He nodded, and they took a tentative step together; Hunk face twitched, but he didn’t say anything, just held his hand pressed against his stomach as they slowly started making their way towards the doorway.

Shiro kept his eyes glued forward as they walked, trying to tune out the way Hunk’s body moved against him and absolutely  _ failing _ at it. His left hand had wound around Hunk’s waist and with every footfall he could feel the flesh under his palm bounce a little in the most  _ distracting  _ way--

A hiccup echoed through the dim corridor, breaking up the silence and sending a ripple through his body. “Sorry,” Hunk chuckled, but he seemed done with the quiet; he glanced at Shiro, then away again before speaking. “At least my room isn’t that far, right? Though I should probably say that’s both a blessing and a curse.” He laughed, and Shiro saw him slide a hand over his gut, patting it gentle, and he forced himself to look away. “I would be upset if they put me farthest from the kitchens, that would not sit right with me...”

Shiro hummed, not knowing what to reply, but he was pulled to a stop as Hunk suddenly stopped moving. They broke apart, Hunk catching the wall for support.

“Hey, is... Is everything cool between us?”

Shiro felt his expression freeze, his cheeks heating up. “Huh?”

Hunk was wearing a weird look on his face, his face closed off and wary. He looked away, then back and grimaced. “ _ Please _ don’t put me on a diet, okay? I’ll do anything else just, not that.”

Shiro blinked and repeated, “ _ Huh? _ ” but Hunk didn’t notice his confusion.

“I mean, I know I’ve been eating a lot lately and part of that is stress-eating, but also I am kind of addicted to that goo, I’m not even kidding--”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Hunk met his gaze, his brows knitting over his dark eyes. “You’ve been watching my every bite since, you know. The other day at breakfast when, uh... And I just thought--as a team leader, you’re gonna want your team  _ fit _ , right?” He was rubbing the side of his gut again as he kept talking, and Shiro found it hard to keep his eyes away from the sight. “I may not look it, but I hit the weights at the gym five times a week, and Lance is making me spar with him like, every other day, so I’m in good shape aside from, uh, current conditions.” He gave his middle a pat, smiling sheepishly.

Shiro took a breath. “I’m not putting you on a diet, Hunk.”

“You’re not?”

“No,” he said. “It’s not my place to... I mean, I don’t--” Shiro cleared his throat, again, seeing the relief on Hunk’s face get replaced by curiosity as he stammered out, “You seem well fit to be a part of this team, so it’s not a problem.”

Hunk made a sound, still watching him, and made no move to get going again; Shiro always forgot that fooling him wasn’t as easy as it looked.

“Then  _ why _ have you been keeping an eye on my eating?”

“I--” Shiro paused, his mind scrambling for an explanation, but nothing came up. “No reason. I mean, everyone on the team is my responsibility so I’m, uh. Keeping tabs.”

He could tell that Hunk wasn’t buying his explanation; there was a different light to his gaze now, a look of interest that didn’t bode well for Shiro, but--he could handle this. He nodded his head towards the corridor, changing the subject before Hunk could speak.

“Ready to continue? We’re almost there.”

Hunk’s eyes narrowed, but Shiro held his gaze, willing his flush away. “Sure,” he said after a moment, pushing himself off the wall. “Good to go.”

The rest of the way they made side by side, walking slowly the last of the corridors before reaching Hunk’s personal quarters; he had refused the offer for support this time, but he’d grabbed hold of Shiro’s arm a couple of times when a sudden spasm of hurt went through his stomach, leaving him breathless with pain.

“This is it,” he finally said as the turned a corner, coming to a stop in front of a door set in the wall. Hunk glanced at it longingly, then turned to face Shiro. He looked flushed from the exertion, his voice a bit breathless as he said, “Thanks for helping me out.” He stuck out his hand for a shake, taking Shiro by surprise.

“Don’t worry about it.” He grabbed his hand, smiling. “It was nothing.”

There was a brief moment when their eyes met, and Shiro thought he was almost in the clear, but before he could turn away and escape, Hunk started talking again.

“Sorry you had to witness that mess, I guess I have a habit of going overboard with food. I mean, it’s  _ research  _ but still, way overboard _. _ ” He chuckled softly, looking down at his full gut. “I should leave the more extreme experiments to my own room, like I usually do, but--I got carried away.”

Hunk’s words bounced around in his head, creating images that burned bright in Shiro’s mind. Blood was thrumming in his ears, his heart thudding heavy in his chest as he followed Hunk’s big hand cross over the bloated top of his gut; he  _ knew  _ that Hunk was watching, reading all the lust and longing written on his face, but he just  _ couldn’t _ hide it any longer.

“--but don’t worry, this is, it’s nothing, I can still fit in my suit, those things are stretchy as hell.” Hunk was still talking, and it seemed like he was intent on driving Shiro crazy by adding fuel to the fire burning inside him. “I’ve actually tried it, you know, with a full belly, so I know--”

Shiro shuddered, lurching forward to clasp his hand over Hunk’s mouth to shut him up; he saw Hunk’s eyes fly wide with surprise and flushed, ripping his arm back again.

“Shiro?”

God, he was going to fuck everything up.

“I know I said no questions asked, but--”

He stared at his arm, not trusting himself to look at Hunk; the metal of his prosthetic looked almost black in the darkness, but the trails of purple that ran through it were pulsing like veins, making it look  _ alive.  _ He let it drop to his side, clenching his fist tight, trying to find his calm before meeting Hunk’s gaze again.

“What were you doing at the common room tonight?”

There was a pause. Then Hunk’s face split into a grin and he said, “Like I said, it’s research.” He could probably read the confusion from Shiro’s face as he grinned even wider, rubbing his belly with satisfaction. “You know how Keith said it’s all the same, the food goo? Well, I’ve been doing some digging into the castle’s database and there’s actually  _ loads _ of different options if you know how to work the food processor, you just need to know what you’re doing.”

“So you...” Shiro’s voice trailed off, his mind going back to the scene he’d witnessed--there had been so many bowls,  _ stacks _ of them littering the couch, more than he’d ever seen at the breakfast table.

“I’m going to prove him wrong,” Hunk answered before he could finish his question, looking more smug than ashamed. “I mean, I was going to just  _ taste _ them all, just a little, but then--the red one was  _ so good _ , and the blue one tasted  _ just like _ the pie my mama used to make, and oh my god the  _ yellow one-- _ ” He made a sound, looking wistful like he was still craving the taste even though he was filled to the brim. “I, uh. I got slightly carried away.”

Shiro realized he was holding his breath, eyes fixed on the outline of Hunk’s gut where it pushed against his shirt, where his hand still kneaded it. It looked so  _ round _ , wide and bloated from top to bottom, and Shiro had to force his body to stay still, not to reach out and cradle that heavy weight.

He exhaled, his body tense with yearning, and his words came out in a rush, harsh and low. “How many did you have?”

“Nine.” Hunk said, his face set with pride under a flush. “Once I got to the eighth bowl, I just  _ had to _ go for one more because--new personal record, yo.”

Shiro could barely hide his reaction, the choked sound still loud in the quiet corridor; the sheer amount of food that gut could hold made his blood run hot, and he wanted so badly to  _ feel _ \--

“That’s--” he started, but his mind was blank, preoccupied with everything that was in front of him, just within a reach, so he did the only thing that seemed like a sane idea.

He turned away, just about to bolt when Hunk caught him. “Don’t,” he said, fixing his grip on Shiro’s arm. “I want to ask a question too.”

Half of Shiro’s brain was still screaming for him to leave, but it was like Hunk’s hand was an anchor, holding his world still; he looked back, meeting his dark gaze.

He looked almost as terrified as Shiro felt, but there was more to it than just that, a glimmer of hope shining in the faint curve of his smile.

“Could you help me with one more thing?”

At that point, Shiro realized he had no fight left in him; he felt drained of resistance when he finally sighed and said, “And what would that be?”

“This.”

He let Hunk pull him around, and slowly place Shiro’s hand against his gut. A shiver ran through him, sending heat in its wake; he let out a soft gasp as Hunk pressed his palm over Shiro’s, guiding it over the expanse of his belly, then returning to the same spot in the middle.

“I could use some help with this. I mean, if you want to,” Hunk said, his voice soft; he lifted off his hand, leaving Shiro to make his decision.

He stared at his hand, the black and purple stark against Hunk’s shirt. He could only feel how tight and swollen it was but no heat, no sensory details and--he wanted to.

He  _ wanted  _ this, and Hunk--

With deliberate calmness, Shiro brought his other hand to Hunk’s middle, moving his palms to frame his belly and  _ squeezed _ , his breath catching in his throat. “You want my help?” he asked, tearing his eyes up to look into Hunk’s, and just barely restraining himself from pushing him against the doorframe.

Hunk’s eyes looked oddly bright in the dim corridor, the grin on his lips lighting his whole face up. He made a sound when Shiro’s hands slid lower, low enough to lift his heavy belly and weigh it, fingers sinking into the soft flesh there, and he sighed.

“I most certainly do.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which questions are, in fact, asked and answered.

The lights went on automatically when they entered Hunk’s room and the brightness of it felt glaring after the dim corridor. Hunk grunted, reaching for the panel that controlled the lights. “Let’s not ruin the mood,” he said quickly, glancing at Shiro sideways.

He didn’t know how to respond, so he conceded to nodding, following Hunk to his bedside in silence. The whole situation left him wordless--it was everything he had been dreaming about, every mad thought that had occupied his mind over the past several weeks suddenly realized--and he didn’t know how to proceed.

Shiro watched Hunk sit down on the edge of his bed with a sigh of relief, and his attention was drawn on the huge ball of a gut in his lap. It made his usually loose shirt look ridiculously small now, not riding up but _tight_.

“Hey, it’s okay.”

His eyes snapped up to Hunk’s face, his cheeks flushing as he realized he had been staring for too long. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting to see there but Hunk was smiling, soft and just as unsure as he was, his nervousness evident in the crease of his brow.

No, wait. Not nervousness.

“You can lie down,” Shiro said, moving forward with sudden clarity. He sat next to Hunk, and after a fraction of hesitation, he placed his hand on Hunk’s stomach. “This must hurt.”

“Ah, yeah.”

He waited a moment, giving Hunk a chance to move away from his hand, but it was like his touch had anchored them both in place with iron shackles. He could feel heat surging up through his palm, making his heart beat fast again; they were so close now that he could just lean over and kiss Hunk, but--he wasn’t sure if that was part of the deal. “Lie down,” he said again, hiding his doubts behind a tone of command.

Hunk’s movements were awkward, clumsy, his bloated middle coming in the way as he scrambled back on the bed until his head was propped against the pillows. He let out another sigh, then followed it with a long, gurgling burp that seemed to rise all the way up from the bottom of his gut. “Oops,” he said, flushing red. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Shiro said, his voice gruff. “I don’t mind.” He sidled up closer so that he was sitting next to Hunk’s side, and this time he gave no time for hesitation before running his hand over Hunk’s gut in a slow caress.

The food goo had done its job and left Hunk’s stomach feeling solid, too stuffed to budge. In this position it looked even rounder, if that was possible, rising up in an almost perfect curve. Pressing in, Shiro could feel that there was absolutely no give on the top, only a slight layer of fat for his fingers to sink into.

“Relax,” he murmured. He could sense that Hunk was tensing up under his touch, and adding to his discomfort was the least thing Shiro wanted. He needed a distraction.

“Tell me more about your research.”

“Huh?”

Shiro gave him a quick smile. “I want to know how you got the food machine to do all that. And what else you can do with it.”

“Oh, okay, um...” Hunk was quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts while Shiro kept rubbing his belly in soothing circles. “I mean, not to go into too much detail, you can basically code it to do anything you want.”

“Anything?”

“Yeah, pretty much. And the coding isn’t the hard part--it’s figuring out how to make it taste like real food and not like, you know, _food goo_. Altean flavors are kinda weird, so first I had to poke around to see what bits of coding make it sweet, what salty, and so on.” Hunk covered his mouth with a fist and burped a couple more times before continuing, “But actually, it’s more about figuring out what _our_ food tastes like, you know? So I know which direction to tweak the code, right?”

“That--sounds like a lot of work,” Shiro said, impressed.

“Yeah, you could say that. It took me weeks just to get those three flavors done,” Hunk said with a chuckle. He was getting into his element now, his hands coming to motion as he continued talking, a familiar note of excitement in his voice. “It would’ve been so much easier if I could just have the machine scan and replicate an Earth dish, but pulling it off with just my taste buds as a guide... Not that easy, lemme tell you. Some of the stuff that came out was, uh. Pretty bad.”

Shiro hummed in reply, letting the information sink in. Given how much Hunk loved food, it wasn’t that surprising for him to pull off something like this, but still--the lengths he’d gone to just to prove Keith wrong seemed like a major overkill.

Unless that was only a part of the reason for his quest.

“Sounds like there was a lot of tasting involved,” he said, trying to keep his voice from betraying his thoughts. “Did you do all the work alone?”

He had kept his hand moving while Hunk talked, slowly widening the circle he was drawing upon his belly to cover it from side to side, top to bottom. Now, he rested his palm just below of the highest part, right where the curve of his bloated stomach started to lead down, and pressed in lightly.

Hunk let out a soft breath, his answer coming just a bit late. “Y-yeah, I mean. Yes.”

“Why?”

Hunk shrugged. “It was supposed to be a surprise, I guess?”

Shiro could feel Hunk’s eyes on him as he slowly traced his fingers over the plump part below his navel. He still wasn’t sure how much further Hunk wanted to take this--how much help was he asking for, exactly--but there was no sign of him pulling back when Shiro moved his hand lower, kneading the fat there eagerly. It felt so big, so doughy yet full... He was momentarily overcome with an urge to rip that offending shirt off to press his face against that fleshy gut to _bite it,_ to feel that pliant skin against his lips.

Shiro cleared his throat, swallowing past the thickness. He felt tense with anticipation, with _lust_ , and he couldn’t keep himself from asking, “And it had nothing to do with you wanting all of it for yourself?”

If Hunk noticed the roughness in his voice, he didn’t show it. “No, no. I just--the others just don’t have the same appreciation for it? I mean, I did think about asking for help, but...” Hunk trailed off, hesitating just slightly before continuing brusquely. “Well, maybe I just don’t trust their palates to be up for the job.”

Shiro felt a smile tugging at his lips. “You don’t?” he asked, patting Hunk’s gut gently to make it jiggle.

“No, I really don’t. You know what Lance’s favorite food was back at the Garrison? _Hot Pockets._ Fricking Hot Pockets, man! And Pidge wasn’t any better with her cup noodles. I know the food goo ain’t that great tasting, but at least it’s got _potential_ to be good.”

Shiro found himself grinning at Hunk’s outrage; he should have figured that Hunk was a food snob on top of being a big eater. “I don’t know. At this point, I could go for a Hot Pocket just for a change of pace.”

“Oh, don’t you start,” Hunk huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “If you want change, I can get you some of that red goo that’s like, a thousand times better than any Hot Pocket could ever dream to be.”

“Is that so?”

“Trust me, it is.” Hunk uncrossed his arms again, massaging the top of his gut with a frown on his face.

Shiro watched him for a moment, then moved his hand up to where Hunk’s was. “Still hurts?” he asked softly and Hunk nodded, his face pulling into a grimace.

“Yeah, uh, a bit.”

He knew that Hunk was lying. His forehead was glistening with sweat, his breath still short and laboured, all the tell-tale signs of too much food in his gut written on his body. And with nine bowls of goo stretching his stomach out, there was no way it hurt just ‘a bit’, but--he wasn’t going to press the subject. Instead, he tried to imitate Hunk’s pattern, massaging the tight crest of his belly in silence until Hunk sighed, his head falling back against the pillows.

“You can use both of your hands, by the way.”

His looked up to see Hunk watching him with dark eyes, his expression hard to read. Shiro nodded, but as soon as he brought his other hand--his _real_ hand--on Hunk’s middle, the missing sensations of warmth and softness flooded his system. He exhaled in gust, fighting to keep his face in check while feeling the roundness of Hunk’s belly with both hands.

“Like, like this?”

“Mmm, that’s good, but--” Hunk’s hand suddenly caught his, his fingers running over the prosthetic. “--you should come closer.”

Shiro’s eyes flicked up again, this time in confusion. “Closer?”

“Uh, yeah.” Hunk glanced away, blushing furiously, then focused back on where their hands were touching. “You could sit on my lap if you wanted to.”

A spike of heat speared through Shiro’s body as Hunk’s words registered in his brain. His senses were suddenly sharp as glass, adrenaline pumping through his veins like he was facing an enemy but no, this wasn’t a battleground. He didn’t even think about running this time, moving on instinct; with the lightness of a fighter he rolled up and lifted his leg over Hunk’s, settling on top of him with both his hands still pressed over his gut.

They stared at each other for a blink second. Surprise and relief mixed on Hunk’s flushed face, his mouth opening to speak, but Shiro didn’t wait to hear what he had to say. Because now he could _feel_ what Hunk wanted; the hardness of his erection under Shiro’s weight told him everything he needed to know. He leaned forward without a word and kissed him, bracing himself on his arms to avoid putting too much pressure on Hunk’s stomach. _God_ , it felt so immense, too bloated to give in an inch, and Shiro moaned into the kiss, heat rushing through him. Instinct drove him to grind his hips forward, his legs spread wide around Hunk’s girth to feel more of his gut, more of _him_.

He felt Hunk responding to the kiss, but his hands were pushing against Shiro’s shoulders, urging him to move back up. “Everything okay?” Shiro asked in a hushed voice, raising himself slightly; he wasn’t ready to give up on his position so soon.

“Ahh, mmh, yeah, _yes_.”

Hunk’s eyes shone bright, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips, but his brow was furrowed deep in obvious pain. He ran his palms up and down Shiro’s sides, feeling the tight V of his back while catching his breath. “Just gimme a minute,” he murmured, closing his eyes for a moment.

Shiro made a sound of agreement, swallowing his disappointment as he sat back up. But now that they were on the same page, there was no rush, and while Hunk recovered, he could take in the view in front of him unabashedly, without fear of judgement. And--he could do more than that, too.

He splayed his fingers on Hunk’s belly and ran them down to where his thighs cradled its sides. The yellow shirt was stretched tight over the bulge of it, not even showing the indentation of his navel; Shiro drummed it lightly, marveling the sound it made, and suddenly he couldn’t wait anymore--he needed to see.

He lifted his weight up to yank the hem free and peeled the shirt up as far as it went to reveal a stretch of brown skin and a shallow belly button. He bit on his lip as he tracked his fingers over the faded stretch marks around it, then grabbed onto the squishy part below. A shudder ran through him as he pinched harder to feel the thickness of it and said, “I can’t believe you could fit _nine bowls_ of that stuff in here.”

Hunk inhaled sharply, drawing Shiro’s eyes back to his face. “You like that, don’t you?” he asked, voice gruff, his hand catching Shiro’s again and pressing it into his fat gut.

Shiro gasped; his answer come immediately even though he didn’t know if Hunk meant his fatness or the fact that he could eat _so much_ in one sitting. “ _Yes_.”

“Mm, well, I like it too.” Hunk released his hand and crossed his arms above his head with a grin, bucking his hips slightly to urge Shiro to continue. “Would do it again, even if it meant I’d be stuck in the common room all night.”

For a moment, Shiro’s mind flashed back to the moment he’d found Hunk, imagining him stuck on that couch again, helpless with the weight of his full gut pinning him into the seat. “You--” he started, but he wasn’t sure what he was going to say, the words scattered in his brain as he stared at the evidence of Hunk’s gluttony in front of him. “You are _insatiable_ ,” he said, trailing his hands over the fat flesh between his legs, feeling the need building up in the pit of his stomach.

His fingers slipped under Hunk’s shirt to palm the crest of his stomach, getting a sharp inhale from Hunk in response. His skin felt hot under his real hand, so hot he could almost imagine the sensation on his metal arm as well, and the feeling pushed him to continue his exploration further, rubbing down the round sides of Hunk’s gut.

It wasn’t enough, though. “I need this off,” he murmured, not lifting his gaze. He grabbed the hem and started tugging it up, trying to free it from under Hunk’s body.

A grunt escaped from Hunk’s lips as he squirmed around, lifting his body the best he could. Shiro could barely focus on the task at hand, his eyes riveted on the sight of that big full gut swaying from side to side; he wanted to touch every inch of the glowing skin that was slowly being revealed, too slowly--

Suddenly, Hunk gasped, his hands pressing into his gut. His eyes were closed, the pained frown back on his face as he kneaded his stomach.

“Are you okay?” Shiro asked, carefully caressing the sides of his belly.

“Yeah, yeah.” Hunk took a moment to open his eyes again, letting his breathing calm down before giving Shiro a bashful smile. “I think I need a little help,” he said, bringing their hands to meet, his fingers brushing against Shiro’s. “Can’t do this lying down.”

Shiro glanced down at their hands, but he knew what Hunk meant. “Of course,” he said, smiling, and maybe just a little bit excited at the thought of Hunk being so stuffed he couldn’t get up without help; he tried to shake off the feeling, but--Hunk didn’t seem to mind. He swallowed, then took a better hold on Hunk’s hands. “Ready?”

Hunk gave him a nod, and after counting to three, Shiro leaned back and pulled him up to a sitting position. “ _Jesus_ , fuck, that--” Hunk’s face immediately distorted into a grimace and he grabbed his belly again, his breath coming out in small puffs, but he didn’t block Shiro out this time. “God, I forgot how painful sitting up is when I’m this full,” he said with a laugh, looking up at Shiro. “Remind me again why I had that ninth bowl?”

“Because you love it,” Shiro said without a pause, and he didn’t realize it until after the words were out that that might be considered a weird thing to say. He saw Hunk’s eyes widen in surprised; they were so close now, so close that he only needed to lean in to catch Hunk’s lips in a kiss.

He gave himself into it, the warmth of Hunk’s mouth against his. The kiss was sweet, and tender, slow in a way that felt like it was happening in a completely different time. He could feel Hunk’s hands on his back, his waist, his touch filled with the same yearning that made Shiro’s hands move down to the plush side rolls that pushed over his tight waistband. He couldn’t hold himself back anymore, his pleasure coming out as a low moan that rumbled deep in his throat when he squeezed Hunk’s fat sides and pressed closer against that full belly sitting between them.

They broke apart and Shiro slipped his fingers under Hunk’s shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the side. He took a moment to just look, painting the image into his memory for later inspection before framing his gut with his hands again. Sitting like this, it looked rounder than lying down, the skin stretched tight so that it looked almost shiny. Hunk shivered, leaning back against his hands without a word, letting Shiro have his moment.

“You can lie down if this is too much,” Shiro said softly, and Hunk didn’t need to be told twice--he lowered himself back on the bed ungraciously, careful not to disturb his stomach. Shiro bit on his lip, trying not to look too eager as he drank in the sight in front of him, but he needed _more_.

He trailed his fingers along the tight waistband that was digging into Hunk’s lower belly, pinching at the bulging flesh there. “These look uncomfortable,” he said, thumbing at the button that seemed almost ready to pop.

Hunk chuckled, his voice breathless when he answered, “A bit, yeah.” He reached out to touch Shiro’s arm, and though he couldn’t feel it, the gesture was as reassuring as his words. “You can open them, if you want to.”

Shiro hummed in reply; he kept toying with the button, trying to fit his fingers under the waistband to tug it lower, but as squishy as Hunk’s lower belly was, the pressure of his bloated gut was just too much.

“You need to, uh. Suck it in.”

“Roger that.”

Hunk sucked in his gut in as much as he could. It didn’t make _that_ much of a difference, but with a concentrated effort, Shiro managed to unhook the button from its hole. Fortunately, the zipper took care of itself; as soon as Shiro let go, the two sides of the zipper separated with an audible _zoom_ under the weight of Hunk’s expanding belly.

“Wow,” Shiro said, staring at the pudge that now spilled out freely from between the open fly. He pressed his hand on it, pinching the soft skin without thinking and giving it a jiggle.

Hunk jumped at the contact, the sound of his gasp making Shiro look up; his eyes were half-closed, shining darkly, but there was no doubt on his flushed face. “Keep going,” he said, licking his lips as if asking to be kissed again.

He nodded in a daze, but instead of continuing what he had been doing, he tugged up his own shirt and stripped it off his torso. He could hear Hunk starting to say something, but didn’t give him a chance to finish as he leaned over and splayed himself on top of him again.

This time, there were no obstructing layers of clothing between them, and Shiro wanted to moan just from the feeling of Hunk’s tightly stuffed gut against his abs. He knew he was being selfish, but he wanted to enjoy it just for a moment.

But Hunk wasn’t protesting; he was pawing at Shiro’s waist, his hips, trying to get them even closer. His head was tilted back, out of Shiro’s reach, so he bent down to kiss his neck instead. Hunk inhaled sharply when Shiro sucked a kiss into the soft spot under his jaw, moving lower, placing wet kisses across the warm skin until he got to Hunk’s chest.

Shiro shifted slightly to the side, bracing himself on one arm so that he could palm Hunk’s pecs with his real hand. He could feel the strong muscle underneath the fatty part, but it was the supple softness that excited him and made him want to press his mouth in for a taste. He jiggled the fat breast, teasing the nipple between his fingers before bowing down to find it between his lips.

“Shi-- _Shiro_!”

He didn’t look up-- _couldn’t_ , because Hunk’s hand was suddenly on the back of his head, holding him firmly in place at his chest. It was so _soft_ , and Shiro lost himself for a bit, sucking the fat flesh in his mouth until Hunk’s moans turned into stuttering gasps, his body wracked with pleasure.

He felt Hunk release his grip, and Shiro took the opportunity to reposition himself so that he was straddling Hunk’s thigh, then knelt down over the dome of his gut to press his cheek against it.

He closed his eyes.

It felt warm, hot even against his heated cheek, and he rubbed his face against the soft skin, craving the sensation with all his being. He could feel Hunk’s breathing lifting him and gave into the ebb and flow of it, a strange sense of calm coming over him as he listened to the churning, gurgling pops that came from within. _All that food_ \--Shiro felt a shiver go through him as he thought about the sheer amount of food that Hunk had managed to ingest, how proud he had been when he'd told him--

He turned his face into Hunk’s belly and nuzzled it, wanting to feel the fullness of it with all his senses. His lips parted to get a taste, fingers gaining purchase on Hunk’s squishy sides as he let loose, kissing, licking, mouthing against the warm skin.

Hunk gasped, grasping his shoulders, one hand finding the back of his neck again. Shiro felt him arching up as if he wanted more, _more_ , and that neediness made him push harder, giving his everything to the cause.

He found his face buried in the soft blubber of Hunk’s belly, sucking hard kisses into the fat flesh. He delved his tongue into Hunk’s belly button, surprised at the shallowness of it until he realized it was only so because of how full he was; he licked around it and in again, greedy and tireless, until he found the wobbly flesh beneath it and buried his face in yet again, wanting to feel _everything_.

They were both breathing hard when Shiro finally came up for air, wiping spit off his chin as he sat back. He didn’t look up immediately, his gaze fixed on the red bruises and trails of dried up saliva now crisscrossing over Hunk’s middle, marking up the spots he’d most enjoyed.

“Hey.” Hunk’s hands appeared in his line of vision and caught his, dragging his attention back to the present. He glanced up and saw Hunk smirking at him; his eyes were glittering, round cheeks flushed red, not a trace of embarrassment on his features. “Can you get up for a bit?”

Shiro blinked, then nodded, rolling off to the side. He watched Hunk lift his hips and struggle off the rest of his clothes, anticipation building up in the pit of his gut as he saw Hunk’s thick cock spring free of his boxers. “Let me,” he said, already moving to pull the pants off his legs before settling between them.

Hunk sucked in a breath when Shiro palmed his erection and gave it a slow stroke. It felt almost painfully hard already, the head slick with precome, but he didn’t want to rush it too much so he took his time, pausing between strokes to squeeze the base between his fingers. His free hand had found its way back to Hunk’s gut, grasping at the soft flesh and making it wobble.

It suddenly struck him that this was the first time he was using his metal arm on someone else like this, and he paused, hesitating. “Is this okay?” he asked quietly, glancing up.

But Hunk didn’t seem to even register the source of Shiro’s worries. “Y-yes, _yes_ , keep going,” he groaned, tilting his hips up to gain friction against Shiro’s hand and urging him with his whole body to continue.

Shiro tightened his grip, allowing himself a moment to watch the movement of Hunk’s fleshy body as he ground against his hand before picking up the pace again, this time with the aim to finish it.

And he did _try_ \--but it felt impossible to keep his focus on jerking Hunk off when there was that big bloated gut swaying right in front of him, when his fingers kept sinking into the jiggly flesh and dragging his attention back to it. Shiro bit on his lip, his body tensing up with yearning until he couldn’t take it anymore.

Hunk cried out when Shiro took his cock into his mouth and grabbed his belly with both hands, shaking it roughly, angling his head so that he could feel the fat flesh against his forehead and face. He could taste the salt of precome on his tongue, feel the tightness building up to a release, but most of all, he reveled in the soft, quivering plumpness against his skin.

He could feel Hunk drawing close, his breath catching as Shiro switched to using his hand again to suck at the fold of flesh by his hip, teasing the sensitive skin before going back to his cock. Maybe he said something--a name or a curse--but Shiro didn’t hear it; he was too lost in the pleasure he was getting from the act himself.

The end came abruptly--Hunk’s body went rigid for a moment, fingers clenched on Shiro’s shoulder like a vice before his hot seed suddenly spilled into Shiro’s mouth. His cock pulsed against Shiro’s tongue, telling him to slow down, and he let the come fill his mouth before pulling out and swallowing it.

“Jesus Christ, Shiro, that was...” Hunk made a vague gesture, trying to find his words, but nothing came out. Instead, he gave Shiro a sloppy grin, red spots of satisfaction glowing on his cheeks.

Shiro sat up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand; he felt heated, the need to get off still burning in his veins, but at the same time, there was a deep sense of peace blooming inside him. “Yeah,” he said, voice muted as he trailed his fingers over Hunk’s soft lower belly.

“You want me to repay the favor?”

Shiro looked up, surprised. “You feeling up to it?”

“Er, probably not, not right away at least, but--” Hunk grimaced, looking sheepish. “--I don’t want to send you off with blue balls. And, uh. I’d like to, you know.” The color on his cheeks darkened and Shiro felt something warm flutter inside his chest.

Did Hunk _like_ him?

“Mm, it’s okay. I can deal with it myself.” He moved to sit by Hunk’s side but kept his hand on his gut, caressing it slowly. “Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself just to get me off.”

Hunk chuckled, turning slightly on his side to give Shiro better access. “Yeah, I do feel kinda queasy. And throwing up is such a waste of food, I hate when that happens.”

Shiro huffed, amused. Of course Hunk would feel worse about wasting food than throwing up in the middle of sex, that’s just who he was. He brought his palm down to where Hunk’s belly curved up from his hip and squeezed the flesh, giving it a jiggle; Hunk made a sound, but didn’t say anything, leaving Shiro to enjoy himself in quiet.

“You’re still so full,” Shiro said as he smoothed his hand over the top of Hunk’s stomach. He thought about everything Hunk had told him about his experiments, all the testing and tasting, his mind finally circling back to the nine bowls tonight. How much more had Hunk been eating lately? It had to be a lot to stretch out his stomach like this, but--somehow, it didn’t seem like he had gained all that much weight. Shiro felt a stirring at the pit of his gut; he bit his lip to hold back a smile, then said, “As the team leader, I should probably be telling you to take it easy on the goo in the future, or you really _won’t_ fit in your suit soon...”

At that, Hunk burst out laughing. “Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. I don’t think I’ll be able to top this record any time soon. And besides, the goo ain’t making me fat, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Shiro stopped what he was doing, and looked up. “It’s... not?”

Hunk was grinning at him widely, looking positively impish when he said, “Oh, no. Not at all.” He lowered his hands to his gut and rubbed it, still smirking at Shiro’s confusion. “That’s the beauty of space food, it doesn’t quite work like you’d expect it to. I’d say I’m pretty much the same size as I was when we left the Earth, just better at filling up.”

Shiro stared at him. His mind was suddenly full of questions, _ideas_ , things that made the heat in his gut flare up like a wildfire. But before he could say anything, Hunk was talking again.

“Of course, there _is_ food that will do the opposite as well. I mean, make you put on weight and _fast_.”

“Uh,” was all that Shiro could say. He looked back to where his hands lay on top of Hunk’s belly and imagined it rising higher, spilling wider, growing and growing until there was no way Hunk could get that space suit on his massive frame any more.

He could barely keep his face straight as the image took form in his mind’s eye--or maybe not at all, as Hunk’s voice was full of teasing when he said, “You want me to keep talking?”

“ _Later_ ,” Shiro said. “I need to, ah. Take care of something.”

He quickly repositioned himself, one hand on Hunk’s belly and the other one reaching for the waistband of his pants.

He would definitely ask more questions later.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: [blackdonuthole](https://blackdonuthole.tumblr.com). Come say hi and talk to me about chubby Voltron!


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